


Stubborn Fools

by Nazerine



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: !top Boris, !topValery, Angst, Blow Jobs, Brotherly Affection, But they make compromises, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Stress Relief, Suicidal Thoughts, They are both top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-07-29 21:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20089000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nazerine/pseuds/Nazerine
Summary: Valery is working himself into an early grave. Boris knows a way to relieve the stress.





	1. Part 1

It all started with a small gesture of kindness.

Valery was asleep on the bed, figure curled up with his joints bent toward himself. All angles with nowhere else to go. It was the first time Boris had seen him like that, exhausted to the point of collapse; helpless. It was inevitable, really. The scientist had been working himself into an early grave since he had arrived at the power plant, documenting and keeping up with the ever increasing workload. Every day there seemed to be a new problem and Legasov made sure to provide what he thought would be a scientific solution to it. But it wasn’t that easy. It never was. 

Every solution just sprouted more problems and every day the world watched, judged, like they had a damned clue what was really going on. The propaganda numbers had dispelled the fear with false facts, facts they were now paying for. The Americans were probably laughing at them and it was up to them to do what needed to be done, Boris had said so himself. Yet, he’d seen the steady decline in Valery’s health since he started the investigation. The ever-increasing amount of cigarettes climbing its way into the ashtray they shared from time to time. The dark bags circulating under his glasses that grew closer to purple as the weeks surmounted. The growing levels of untidiness when it concerned his room...

It was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down. They were due to die in five years, he’d said, and as Boris gazed upon his pale face, haunted and sagging, he couldn’t help the small fond tug of protectiveness he felt. Valery, for all his reserved, stubborn and awkward self, he was anything but small. Yet on this bed, in the quietness of his slumber, Valery’s insecurities betrayed him. Boris knew to read between the lines. He could tell when a man was reaching his limit and Valery, wonderful, talented, sincere Valery had been toeing the line for weeks. So he let him sleep and reached over to pry the skewered glasses from his nose.

He meant to make the gesture smooth and quick but Boris took longer than he should, taking the time to study the lines and scars and freckles that dotted his friend’s unguarded face. It was unusual to see him this peaceful. No lines of stress rousing his expression. No edges of frustration, no sinking dullness of sadness. Boris went and pulled the lens away and accidentally nudged his knuckles against Valery’s cheek, causing the scientist’s eyes to flutter open.

“Relax, Valera, it’s me…” He hoped it was enough. The last thing Valery needed was thinking he was being interrogated. The sun had set over the horizon of the dying city a while ago and while it wasn’t exactly late, the obvious lack of sleep had accumulated a debt that needed to be repaid - one that Boris had every intention of having Valery earn back. “Go back to sleep.” Valery blinked once, twice, slowly, as if registering the voice, the smell. Cigarettes, vodka and diesel. “Boris…” He groaned, tone gravelly with rest and without much effort, he fell back under.

From there, the kind little gestures continued. Small displays of care where at times the other needed it. Comradeship between two stubborn fools. Valery comforted Boris quietly after a particularly rough thirty-seven hours of dealing with red tape skirting and bureaucratic sleepwalkers, a warm palm splayed against his shoulder where the jacket was beginning to thin. Another time, Boris had come down to the tent where they had set up the maps documenting the various clean-up efforts in and around the power plant and urged a sandwich under Valery’s nose when his head was stuck between the pages of a rover manual. After that, it was aiding in the adjustment of a tie between meetings, the toasted shots of vodka in short moments of victory, the passing of a shared cigarette that transferred between them without question. 

Boris couldn’t help but feel that Valery was steadily opening up to him, and as they shared more and more with each other, he caught glimpses. A curiosity, or a want, he supposed. It wasn’t like he himself was made of stone, he could recognise the same in himself; a path that he hadn’t realised existed since countless years ago. Before work had buried him with responsibility and service. He could see the warmth reflected in Valery’s eyes from time to time, when his inhibitions and guard were drawn low from lack of sleep or too much alcohol, or the rare times when he felt comfortable to let Boris see that part of him. Like it was wrong to feel any modicum of joy in a place surrounded by so much misery and loss. 

Shcherbina was afraid if he looked too deeply he might frighten one of them away. He knew what they had was friendship, gone the animosity that had almost ended their lives prematurely when he thought he knew what was best. But there was something else. Something else he couldn’t quite bring to describe and into light, but knew was more than just careful, brotherly consideration. 

Boris had never had issue with showing affection. He protruded a wall of steel when there was party business involved, when he was but a title and a cog in the great machine of the USSR. But it never stopped him from giving appreciation, not where it was due and yet, where Valery was concerned, he was hesitant. He knew the consequences to such curiosities and desires. He knew well the dangerous territory it could become should he decide to cross into it: validation thrown out the window, career shattered, maybe even a private numbered room for him at the local institution. And yet, it wasn’t the first time.

He remembered the days spent in the army, soldiers finding time to unwind between marches and patrols.There was always the showers, the blind spots between tents, barricades or out in the woods. He had been young once, full of vigour and want and thirst for life. Stress relief was not uncommon, an unspoken sin he had committed more than once in the dark and hushed whispers of his fellow comrades. A history he had wiped clean, left forgotten in the graves he had sewn and buried. Chernobyl reminded him of those periods of dark. The struggle, the want and thirst for anything positive to make the day worth living. It was war on an immeasurable and unimaginable scale, an invisible enemy destroying everything he had fought for and adored. 

Now it was destroying them too, but the same bullets that were tearing him apart, shredding away his lifespan minutes at a time were also responsible for bringing him and Valery together. It was ironic how life worked. Deadly situations building relations for people that were never meant to meet and like war, desperation only made that bond stronger. 

It was a few weeks later when the opportunity presented itself. Their moments of shared affections were growing more bold lately. In the scheme of what it looked like to outside eyes, the acts remained small, impartial, friendly even. But look beneath the surface and there was something there, a hope for something greater; a certain magnetism that kept pulling them in. Kept drawing them back, and like the string on the bow it was beginning to grow taut. 

It was growing late one evening, a thick cloud passing low over the horizon with the crackle of thunder. Rain poured soon after, Pripyat drowning in a deluge that hadn’t struck it in months. Water quickly flooded the roads and gutters, forcing soldiers inside and grounding helicopters. Not even the upper floors of the apartments were safe.The room Valery had been housed in had been penetrated by hail, a discovery the professor hadn’t made until he and Boris had shuffled their way upstairs after being caught in the rain only to find the bed and sheets soaked and ruined with shattered glass.

Valery quickly rushed around the room, grabbing his notebooks, pencils, diagrams, cigarettes - anything that the rain shouldn’t spoil and wash away. Boris considered pulling aside a private or any of the hundred loyal Kremlin dogs to demand another room when an idea struck him. “Come with me. We’ll get you a new room.” He had gruffed, earning an upturned brow from Legasov as the doused papers sagged against his chest. “Boris, the papers!-” To silence the scientist’s pleas, Boris reached out and grabbed whatever was in Valery’s arms, effectively freeing him. Valery didn’t hesitate to act then, spinning around and snatching whatever was left and after double-checking he had what needed to be saved, was lead outside into the hall. 

The electricity in the building suddenly jumped and then dimmed as the door closed behind them, followed by a sweep of complete darkness that consumed everything in its way. The whole town went pitch black, roads and parks and soldiers vanishing into the night. Only the ever-burning glow of the power plant remained online, meaning that somewhere between here and there had disrupted the flow, gone offline or blown itself up. It was the last thing on Boris’ mind to care about as instead of taking Valery down the hall toward the stairwell, the chairman instead lead the professor and his possessions right to his own room. A small faint click and the door opened, and in the shadows, he could sense the confusion rolling off the other man.

“I thought you said a new room?” Valery queried in a hushed voice. Boris only half-shrugged and planted his possessions on one of the tables near the window. Unlike Valery’s room, Boris’ faced the opposite direction on the other side of the building, giving them a clear line of sight directly into the watery curtain now stealing the night away. They could hear the wind hissing noisily through the window frames, the battering and shrilling of its torrents unleashing cracks of ozone between the clouds. It was enough to mask over the bugs planted in his room, interference running high. Boris encouraged it by prying one of the windows open slightly, causing Valery’s brows to only raise higher.

“I said what needed to be said,” Boris muttered as he stuffed the curtain so it wouldn’t go flapping about. “You needed a room and I got you one.” In the dark, Valery’s glasses looked even more ridiculous, hiding half of his face in different shades of light and dark. It made it nearly impossible to read him. Not that it was needed. Boris always came prepared, lighting an oil lamp that had been stored away in case of emergencies. There was also some battery run torches as well and he rolled one over to Valery who took it and looked at it sceptically. 

It wasn’t much but it was enough. Like how they were going about with the rest of the investigation - taking what they could when they could because they were dealing with uncertainties. Valery was quiet as he went about flattening pages and drying them and Boris wasn’t going to make himself a nuisance. Legasov was savvy enough to understand the usefulness of the storm, as well as the nature of being invited back to Boris’ room. Whether he admitted it or not, and he wasn’t, but it was convenient having company and someone ready to help despite his stubbornness. Boris made himself useful, holding down corners here, wiping paper there. The two of them bumped shoulders as they worked in the dark, knees brushing.

Books, papers and manuals all accounted, it seemed like an eternity had stretched out as they had laboured and yet, Boris couldn’t find any reason to complain. Valery was here, close and yet, the entire time had barely spoken anything more than a few words. “You’ve been quiet.” Boris pointed out as he pulled up a bottle of vodka as they sat on the floor, wet jackets left to hang and dry. They sat in their shirts and pants and suspenders as he poured them both a drink, Valery taking his without being urged.

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll be blamed for all of this?” Valery mused aloud, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. Boris followed suite, lighting one of his own before passing his lighter to Valery once it had become apparent it had run out. “What makes you say that?” Boris seemed curious by the sudden admission, drawing in a long breath of smoke that had his gut punching out a cough against his will. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the rush of rain. “We know that there was a degree in human error behind the reactor core exploding. Soon, the whole world will know. Yet, I wonder if they’ll look back on this and think if what we did was enough.” Valery’s tone was full of melancholy and cynicism, half hidden by the cigarette jarred between his lips. He breathed in the smoke and shot back the vodka and yet, Boris didn’t see any degree of relief.

“I wonder if we’ll ever really do right. Maybe they’ll just string us up along with all the rest. Those who made mistakes.” Frowning, Boris had heard enough. For weeks he’d been watching from the sidelines as Valery became more and more miserable, too close to his heart to not let guilt and sorrow affect him. The increased intake of cigarettes, the drinks, the small share of comforts they had partaken in. They were only swallow reliefs. They weren't enough, and he was growing tired of Valery seeing only negative, letting the storm and rain of their struggles consume him until maybe, there will be nothing left.

Grasping onto Valery’s shirt collar, Boris tugged and suddenly, their lips met. Clumsy, rough and tangled, Boris pulled back and tilted and then, they were fitting together, like two slots in a jigsaw sliding into pace. Bullets colliding in thin air. Valery made a noise, something that sounded like indignation or surprise and then, Boris felt fingers climbing their way into the hair at the back of his head and oh, this was better than he had hoped. Valery kissed like a man seeking the sun after a long, cold winter. He was slowly being awoken after hibernation, rising and folding into Boris’ advances with desperate want. Boris’ hands found their way to Valery’s sides, grabbing onto the suspender belts there as Valery’s arms wrapped around the back of his shoulders, holding on, pulling him in, dragging them closer…

Boris gasped as he pulled away, Valery looking dazed as he bent forward and brushed their foreheads together. “Stop thinking,” He urged as Valery’s mouth remained parted, gasping silently as he gazed somewhere down between them. “Just stop thinking already. You’ll kill yourself with thoughts like those. They’ll poison you from the inside out, Valera.” Just like the radiation, the thousands of trillions of millions of bullets flying around them right at this moment. Valery’s arms squeezed around his shoulders as his head bowed, lips closing in a slight quiver. “I can’t help it, Boris... I can’t lie to myself... I can’t hide what I’ve done.” “What we’ve done,” Boris corrected and pulled Valery closer, their chests meeting, leaning on the other. His hands slid up to cup his scarred cheeks, urging him to lock eyes with his own. “You’re not alone, Valera. If we’re making mistakes here, or if the world is going to point the blame, it’ll be at both of us.” 

Something flashed in Valery’s eyes, a tinge of hurt but also a flame of empathy, longing and as Boris leaned in and connected their lips together a second time, it wasn’t regret that steered him. It was want. “Just stop thinking,” Boris urged in whispers between stolen breaths, Valery reciprocating, coming undone. Weeks, months of pent up frustrations and stress began to unfurl as Valery let go and allowed himself to be consumed by the sensation of Boris’ tongue sweeping into his mouth, of the larger man’s back stretching beneath his fingers. Valery’s tongue met his between their mouths, laced in vodka and the tang of tobacco and the two danced and tangled between suckling kisses, rousing the hairs on the back of their necks as their bodies pressed closer, leaning further until they both came to lay on their sides upon the cold, dripping floor. 

“What are we doing?” Valery panted as their mouths pried apart, lips moist as his fingers skirted down the side of Boris’ chest, fingers broad and warm. They weren’t drunk. They didn’t have that safeguard to fall behind and they certainly had never discussed this. The question made Boris feel apprehensive. Valery was returning everything he gave and more but still there was that cloud of doubt that whatever this was wasn’t quite right. “Taking your mind off the situation,” Was the chairman’s response, his palms resting just above the other’s hip. “Stress relief. Whatever you want to call it.”

“Mmm,” Valery murmured into his mouth and pushed into another kiss, this one filled with gratitude and softer than the last shared few. “You’re a good man, Boris.” His tone was less despair, more tired and Boris could read the undertone of desire there, fluttering beneath the surface of it all. “I know.” He had a job to do and Boris pulled Valery close, hands distractedly flicking at the bands of the suspenders in silent permission for removal. Valery complied, too exhausted, too absorbed to really care anymore. He slipped his hands away to undo the clips, allowing Boris to shove them aside only to find Valery returning the favour, removing Boris’ own with a dark ember or curiosity growing behind the lens of his glasses.

The buttons of their shirts followed, lips meeting in the middle as they kissed and wrestled their tongues together. The mood was shifting to something personal as hands wandered, groped and tugged. God, how much he missed this. How long had it been? Even longer for Legasov, judging by his growing insistence and pushiness. The professor wasn’t coy about what he was doing at all, readily unbuckling Boris’ belt as his tongue swept over the gap in his teeth in concentration. He didn’t stop him, secretly wondering what else the other had been hiding as Valery undid his fly and slipped his hand inside Boris’ pants to grasp at the half hard shaft within.

“God, Valera,” He groaned as he reached down between them unbuckling the professor’s belt in turn as Valery’s fingers slipped inside and fondled his manhood. It had been a long time since anyone had bothered to touch him there, and it was a pleasant surprise to realise that Valery was anything but shy about it. Valery’s fingers pulled out his half hard cock from his underwear, exposing him to the night air and traced over him curiously at first, thumb running over and around the helmet while his fingers flexed and grasped as he began to fill out, weighing him. 

He was about to make another comment when Valery leaned over and swallowed his compliments with a kiss, tongue darting into Boris’ mouth to steal away his words. It was becoming apparent to Boris that his control of the situation was slipping and with a groan and slight buck of his hips he pulled back, gasping. “What’s this? I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you? Not the other way ‘round Valera.” He masked his uncertainty as best he could, his now erect self being tugged by dry, calculating, creative fingers. Legasov looked up at him, glasses steamy and crooked and let go of Boris, only to spit into his palm and lower his hand back down.

“You are taking care of me.” Was Valery’s response, tone breathy as Boris finally shook the man from his breaches and clasped a large warm palm around him. The two were on equal footing it seemed, both wanting to take control and neither really wanting to fully surrender to the other. It made Boris laugh a husky sound, something from deep in his chest as Valery’s mouth slacked open, gaze focusing downward as he watched Boris pump him to full hardness. 

“Stubborn man.” Boris playfully admonished him, not too caught out to let Valery’s dominant side get the better of him. He liked it frankly, and should have seen it coming. The scientist had always been one to challenge authority, never afraid to raise his voice or his hands when others thought to quieten him, keep him insignificant and subordinate. Boris leaned in and suckled Valery’s loose lips as their hands worked in unison, each grasping the other and tugging, rolling, caressing. The scientist moaned lowly as Boris worked him drily, rough. He moved like he performed, calling what was his into line, spurning it to do what needed to be done. His grip was strong and hot, burning with that edge of pain that drew a prickle of pleasure up from the scientist’s balls with every down stroke. Valery on the other hand was more mindful. Grip slick and methodical, he teased Boris with his thumb between pulls, focusing on drawing his attention to the vein that ran on the underside of his cock. 

Boris found his composure slipping as he drew his mouth away to focus on the softness of the other’ man’s neck, suckling kisses to Valery’s throat that had the other’s grip clench. “Ah!” Valery grunted in a low keen, hips rising and thrusting his dick harder into Boris’ vice. Boris smirked against him, a small victory that quickly lost footing as Valery’s other hand drew down and wrapped around Boris’ balls. He let his fingers splay behind them, pressing in at a point that suddenly had Boris’ vision filling with stars, a rumbling moan falling out as sweat beaded down through his hair. “Stubborn fool.” He grunted in complaint, biting lightly at Valery’s neck which earned a laugh from the other. It was small and bright like a star, shining and glittering and filling his chest with warmth. Boris’ lips pulled into a smile and he chuckled, lifting his head up to look at Valery who was, for the first time since he came to this damned hazardous wasteland, smiling back.

The two men’s hands continued to move as they found humour in each other's antics, foreheads pressed together, breath washing out and over. Valery closed the gap and swallowed their laughter in a kiss, tempo increasing as their tongues danced slow, luxurious circles. Boris sighed, feeling that familiar, long lost crescendo begin to build within him. His thighs flexed within his pants, sweat beading down through his hairline toward his chin as he felt Valery shiver against him. Small moans roused from Valery’s throat in pleasure, brow knitting as he spread his legs, letting Boris have more access to him as that same punishing rhythm increased.

“Borja...” He gasped as their kisses turned wet, saliva drooling out from one corner of his mouth, tone full of want. “I know.” Boris barely replied, his voice tight and breath shallow. They were both getting close, neither really having the stamina. Boris shifted closer, feeling the shudder of Valery’s arm against his own as they moved, up and down, up and down. Circling, teasing, drawing him closer to that edge. Boris glanced down between them, Valery’s pink cock deliciously and obscenely red from the abuse it had sustained. He almost looked raw, a small stream of precum leaking from the slit. Boris thumbed at the glands and Valery shuddered against him, his expression tightening. “Borja, I can’t…” He pleaded, eyes tight and jaw slack as he breathed in shallow breaths. 

“Then don’t…” Boris panted, grunting as Valery’s hand clasped tight around him, squeezing. The hand on his balls felt the same, pressing in and despite Valery’s spiralling control, the scientist held fast, opening his eyes just as Boris looked up and saw the heaviness in them, a clouded storm that urged to break free. So Boris did. Sighing and moaning, Boris focused and pulled and in a desperate keen, Valery’s surge followed through. Breaking free, Valery cursed as thick ropes released from his swollen slit, flooding Boris’ fingers as Boris himself grunted and accompanied along side him.

His white head fell back against the floor, spine arching in complaint. There was a dull ache in his hip somewhere but it didn’t reach him as Legasov’s fingers continued to move, going through the motions as he milked Boris dry. It felt like someone had taken a great weight off his shoulders, that he was somewhere up there in the clouds, breaking through the storm. 

Coming back down to earth, Boris opened the eyes he hadn’t realised had closed and moaned shortly as Valery continued to caress and pull him, easing his slowly softening erection with affectionate strokes. Boris’ messy fingers tugged in response, Valery shuddering as a small last bead of cum oozed and flooded out over his knuckles. So pent up, Boris observed, noticing the mess between them; spread out across their pants, their shirts, even in their chest hair. He pulled his hand away and wiped his spoiled fingers against his shirt, leaning up onto one elbow.

“How about we go get this cleaned up?” He offered, Valery looking almost as if he was half conscious. He opened his eyes, lips red and cock lax against his gaping pants. Valery just watched him from behind the foggy lens, causing Boris to shift a little, uncomfortable. He wondered if he had made a mistake after all. 

Valery moved, a hand coming to rest on Boris’ chest, fingernails grazing the skin between his collarbones. “We’ll have to get warm or we’ll risk getting sick if we get cold.” Boris couldn’t help but blink, finding himself surprised by Valery’s confidence. He really had underestimated him, hadn’t he? Boris’ mouth tugged into a smirk, something mischievous breaking the stern lines in his face. He wasn't dreaming. Valery hadn't just smiled, but had made a joke as well.

“We’ll see how long this storm lasts. Come on.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valery and Boris head in to clean up and air out what had happened between them.

A crackle of lightning filled the bathroom window, illuminating the lime green tiles and the firm curves of Boris’ chest for a fraction of a second. The warm glow of the oil lamp lit up the rest of him, shirtless, looming over the sink as he scrubbed and scrubbed. Valery stood behind him, clad in his oversized undershirt and still mostly dressed as he watched, catching Boris’ eye in the reflection of the mirror.

“What?” Shcherbina grunted softly, curiosity peaked. Valery raised a sharp brow, looking like he did whenever he was going to go off on a tangent. The only difference was this time, there was an airiness to his tone, the lines of stress in his face mellowed; the unmistakable marks of afterglow. It was a good look on him. “I...was just...thinking about what you said,” He seemed to be piecing himself back together, taking off his glasses to wipe down his lens as Boris continued to clean. “When did you know?” “Know what?” A slight pause. “That it was worth risking our lives?”

Boris knew what he was referring to. The institutes, the discrimination. All because the Soviet Union pretended its flaws didn’t exist and that intimacy between two men were the acts of child molesters, prisoners or the mentally sick. He looked down at the two shirts drifting amid the grey sud-soaked water, feeling their weight distantly, like his mind was slowly detaching from his body. He could trust Valery. He could do this. He knew this was coming.

And yet, the words escaped him. Boris could feel them sitting there, frozen inside his chest, catching in his throat. All he had to do was talk, for God's sake. Valery deserved the truth. Admitting it made it real and in some ways, a weakness. It was like the sun. Stare at it too long, too closely and you might burn. Some part of him was afraid, he realised, like that time he’d been given the time frame of five years to live out the rest of his life. 

And like that time, it was the professor who showed bravery, who proved once again he was in many ways, easily misjudged. He glanced at him as he watched Valery move from behind, arms wrapping instinctively around Boris’ bare chest in a slow, cautious glide. Protective, stronger than predicted and incredibly warm. Valery’s body pressed against his back, heating him through the chill sweeping in from the jarred door to his bedroom where the storm still stirred.

He’d brought them here to regather themselves. They weren’t young anymore and they needed to remove the evidence while there was still time. Boris hadn’t counted on himself freezing, caught out because he didn’t want to scare Valery off, to give name to whatever had happened between them. He let his hands clasp around the edge of the sink and took a moment to breathe, savour the moment. Even now, the small acts of kindness continued. Pulling him through. An anchor against a world drowning in grief.

“I knew it when I found you. Exhausted and out cold,” Boris replied, feeling the sensation of Valery’s hot breath skirt over his shoulder. The arms around him faintly shifted, a meagre sign of discomfort. “-You’d wanted to save lives. That’s all you’ve been wanting since you got here. Lower the risk of mortality. Reduce the amount of exposure.” Boris held his gaze again, seeking Valery’s own. The scientist looked back at him, a slight frown tugging between his brows, darkening his face in regret. “I know you came here under the pretense of work. None of us were ready for the clean up it would involve. None of us knew what was really going on. No one wanted to see the truth. Except you.”

Boris turned, Valery’s arms slipping and lounged around his hips as Boris enveloped him, pulling him in until they rested, chests pressed together, hips brushing. They were still sticky in the aftermath he faintly recalled. Not that it mattered now. “I know you still cared about them and everything else. You still do. But when I saw you stop caring about yourself, that’s when I knew…” Boris waited, warm palms spreading out over the rumpled fabric of Valery’s undershirt, so full of holes it was a wonder why it hadn’t been replaced. The scientist’s hands returned the favour, touching wantonly with that hint of despair that was showing itself in those dark depths that had worn through, seen too much in too short a time.

Boris waited, letting his uncertainty remain silent. Valery’s gaze was downcast, guilty, as if trying to bury through the tiles beneath their feet, somewhere faraway. Being caught out, realising how far Boris had to go to keep him in check, earthed. His rock against the storm. For a man that could see all the problems that they faced going forward in regards to Chernobyl, he truly was blind to the smaller, personal details. “You’re right.” The scientist admitted and locked eyes with him, somewhat bashful and ashamed and, oh, there it was. That desire and thirst for life. For something more than just pain and misery and loss.

Boris cupped his cheek in reassurance, stroking the acne scars flat as Valery moved in and surrendered. He wanted this, they both did. They both needed this, whether Boris wanted to admit to his own weaknesses and desires or not. They were only human and the rest was history.

They kissed in equal yearning, sharing in the warmth of each other's bodies. Both wanting to forget about the world and its demands and the guilt they carried in differing struggles. Stress relief, desperation, a mixture of fear for the future. The slowly burning embers, the dwindling of their lives. Second by second, atom by atom.

Valery panted as Boris’ lips found their way back to the soft spot just below his ear and stifled a laugh as he worked at it, teeth nipping gently. “You’re right. I’ve been a fool.” He lamented, tone hitching slightly as his fingers dug into the older male’s hips, sinking into the soft flesh there. Boris’s own gripped onto the pesky undershirt and tugged, Valery pulling back to allow it to be dragged over head and deposited in the sink to soak with the rest.

Glasses followed, left to sit somewhere safe as Boris turned on the taps and let the water flow. Even without electricity, there was enough hot water in the apartment’s tanks to suit their needs. Belts fell, pants dropped, laces untied. They undressed candidly, separating from each other to shed and step beneath the shower’s spray. It wasn’t a particularly large shower, nor very bright but Valery had no problems seeing, reaching for the soap to create a lather as Boris adjusted the temperature. 

Shcherbina glanced at Valery as he worked the soap between them, coating over their skin once it thickened. He was studded with freckles and reddish hair that was peppered with grey, sparse and secluded to a thin line that ran up from between his legs to his belly. Less staunch, he still retained a certain brawn to his build, a maturity that had aged with consideration. Boris could feel Valery’s gaze taking him in; the firmness of his framework and the slight paunch that hadn’t stopped his ability to be agile when needed. The scientists’ methodical hands were caressing the foam over him, fingernails raking through the short fuzzy hairs surrounding his belly. He cleaned in an exploratory tone, testing and curious, like unravelling a gift. Those expressive, talented hands Valery used so much to talk through were now working over him.  
Boris yearned to take the soap away and return the favour but he remembered what Legasov had said. The way he had made sure Boris knew being in control came natural to him, his preferred comfort zone. Just like him.

So instead he sighed and let surrender steer him, hands loosely caressing the other’s sides, silently encouraging. Pleased, Valery worked, cleaning him down with a proficiency that roused his manhood with a slight cursory twitch. He could feel himself slowly growing hard again, cock head blushing shades of velvet as Valery draped closer as he worked, scrubbing and polishing away. “Valera...” He whispered, voice hoarse with want, fingernails digging in slightly. 

Valery instead shot him a look, one of restraint and the desire that danced behind its bars. He had his quiet moments of command, Shcherbina admitted. He almost felt like a trapped animal as Valery moved, cleaning, exploring, avoiding the part that wanted him most. Boris grit his teeth, biting down on a sound that barely escaped as he felt Valery tease by pushing against him, sliding them together. Valery was hard too, Boris registered, already full and quicker to react, eager and ready.

Pink and red washed together, grinding and thrusting as he glanced down, fascinated as he felt himself responding, letting Valery feel his heat and the power that he still retained. Valery closed his eyes, letting the soap go to focus on the sensation as they moved, rutting slowly beneath the hot stream. Lips found lips, pushing and contesting as they swayed and ground down, the water smoothing the friction just enough to grant neither true leverage. 

Boris shoved his hips forward, drilling harder with a silent urging and Valery, observant and studious as he was, was quick to note the growing anticipation. Sighs and grunts melded between them as they moved, swallowed down by the hissing of the shower and the pelting of the rain outside. A silent, hidden abode only for a time and time, like them, was running out.

Legasov broke the kiss, lips parted and swollen red as he looked up at him, the height difference between them barely noticeable in this playing field of need. “Thank you, Boris.” Valery whispered lowly in gratitude for all the things Boris had done for him, the deeds he had carried out, without ever asking for more than his attentiveness and certainty to do what needed to be done. He licked the corner of his bruised mouth clean and without complaint or comment, lowered himself, water plastering the thin streaks of hair to his forehead as he sunk to his knees.

Boris’ breath hitched slightly as Valery grasped his girth and stroked once, twice, thrice - tugging the entirety of him from base to head and back again. He barely had time to piece together what was happening before Legasov’s mouth was on him, swallowing him down in an eager heat that sent sparks shooting down from his balls into his thighs and straight into his spine. He groaned harshly, hands blindly grasping the tiles behind him as Valery sucked him against the flat of his tongue, freckled cheeks hollowing out as his head bobbed back in forth in a steady tide. The pressure lengthened and released, Valery drawing him out as he tasted across that familiar vein, flicking against the frenulum before taking him down again, further than before. 

Fuck. He couldn’t tell if Valery had done this before or if he was just that shrewd but he didn’t have the willpower to think or awe all that much, his mind running on empty; stagnant fumes. All he cared about was that godforsaken heat and with a shudder, Boris reached out and claimed Valery’s shoulders, squeezing down in vigour. The scientist built up a rhythm that suited them both, suckling and licking as far as his tongue allowed and where he couldn’t, his fingers did the rest, squeezing and pumping as his head bobbed beneath the spray.

Each one of Valery’s low moans vibrated his tongue against his cock, enough to cause him to jerk and his hips to cant forward. Seeking, greedy, wanting more. He might have just cum barely fifteen minutes ago but already, much to his dismay, this battle of fortitude was one he was quickly losing. He breathed through the fluttering in his thighs, the telltale tides of orgasm lapping dangerously at his shores. In the pit of his stomach, Boris steeled himself, bearing down to weather it just a little bit further. He called himself back from that edge as Valery doubled down, increasing his pace as his jaw slacked and drew him in deeper. Boris could feel himself sweating despite the warm water washing over him, his balls drawing closer to himself as the scientist’s other hand weighed them and squeezed down. He couldn’t move, caught between the wall and Valery’s sinful mouth. The redhead moaned in a guttural, choked sound as he pushed Boris further past his lips, the head of the chairman’s cock knocking against the back of his throat in his over-enthusiasm.

He couldn’t see clearly through the stream, but the slight redness to the corner of the professor’s eyes as he coughed was a small victory. He wanted to scald him for trying to show off, for pushing himself too far but Valery was just as stubborn and proud as he was and as quickly as the mistake was made, was it unmade. 

Wrapping his hand around his base tighter, Valery shifted on his knees and licked out at him, letting Boris watch as his pink tongue darted under the skirt of his foreskin. He sucked at the glands between licks, the chairman’s thighs tightening, fists clenched as the scientist toyed with him; experimenting. Valery, always the underdog, always the fighter and always damned determined to finish what he started. Underestimating him might be one of Boris’ proudest mistakes.

His jaw clenched as Valery sucked him in, nose brushing against the narrow hairs at the base of his cock. His eyes had closed over in concentration as he threw everything he had into it, hot slapping sounds echoing into the stall with every end thrust from where Valery’s closed fist collided with his mouth. He couldn’t tell if it was his heart or the water pounding in his ears as the stream rushed over him like the rain, barely noticeable in comparison to the wet heat that was melting his brain. Valery paused between the punishing sucks every so often, tongue licking wet broad stripes up the sides of his manhood, mapping all of Boris’ weak spots. He tugged at his balls and bent to lick them as well, grazing the short hairs and rumples of skin without any sense of reservation. Boris groaned in approval as his grip almost turned painful, one hand sliding into Valery’s hair as he held onto it like a leash; the only purpose of control he had left to spare.

“Valera, I’m...I’m going to-” He needed to warn him, contest, do something. Valery groaned in response, looking up at him through his lashes as he kissed at junction where his cock curved. “Let go, Borja.” He urged. If this was his way of seeking an apology…

Boris grunted and let his body move, hips swinging on their own accord, muscles flinching as the pressure built and built. Valery positioned and sucked him down, brows knitted in concentration as he thrust and tugged, forehead slapping at the bottom of Boris’ belly. He could feel it climbing from the base of his feet, running up his calves toward his thighs. A coil of heat that turned and tightened and made his entire body sink in at his core, a black hole crushing him from the inside out. “V-Valera- fuck!” He startled, louder than he should have been as the supernova unleashed and like a bomb, he exploded. 

Hot, molten heat shot up from his balls out through his cock, rocking his entire body as thick streams of cum filled Valery’s mouth. The professor pulled back and spat, continuing to stroke him as spurt after spurt echoed, pouring out over Legasov’s shoulder, down his chest, making him dirty all over again. He could barely take it in, Boris’ head leaning back and hitting the tiles as he gasped, being wrung dry in every sense of the word.

By the time the waves of euphoria had subsided, Boris could barely stand. Thighs and knees shaking, lungs straining. He coughed lightly as he tried to take in his surroundings, coming back down from his rush. He found Valery easy enough, the man cleaning himself down with the soap, removing the traces that this had ever happened. His cock was still half-hard, interested, but Boris could see Valery wasn’t paying heed to it, his attention mostly centred on the chairman himself.

“Are you alright?” Valery whispered, tone filled with concern as he carefully washed Boris’ now flaccid cock beneath the spray. He felt over-sensitised, empty flames of pleasure licking away at him. He was just too tired to both pursuing anymore. Valery had won. “Yeah,” Boris responded, waiting for the shaking in his legs to stop before he reached out and cupped Valery’s cheek, tugging him upward and toward himself. “Are you?” He glanced briefly at the other’s penis, neglected and waning; a silent offering. Valery looked down at himself and back up, an open smile breaking through the concentration as he washed himself down, removing the last traces of spent. “More than enough.” 

Boris smiled in return, full of gratitude and satisfaction and leaned in to kiss him, feeling the smile on Valery’s face through it. They moved to the bedroom after, their wet shirts wrung and left to hang, towels disposed. Boris felt very much the same in a sense, flat and squeezed out. Valery laid next of him under the covers, their legs lazily curled together as he tucked his head against Boris’ shoulder. The scientist’s arm wrapped around his waist. Boris held his own hooked Valery’s body, holding him in place as they shared in each other's comfort.

“You can’t stay here,” Boris muttered, not enjoying breaking the soft eclipse of their evening.“You’ll have to go back before morning comes. Report the damages done.” He could feel Valery looking up at him from out of sight, the broad palm at his hip moving up to cup his elbow. “I know...” There was a sigh and Valery moved, sitting up so both their heads rest at eye level on the same pillow. “...But for now, we’ll both be two, tired, stubborn old men.” Boris’ cheeks lifted a little. Fatigued and well-spent. “We’ll both be fools together.” Boris replied, earning a half-smile from the other as he closed his eyes and nuzzled the chairman’s cheek. 

Tomorrow the storm will wash away.

They’ll both go back to doing what needed to be done.

There will be hardship and there will be even more casualties.

But for now, they both knew better.

And for them, each of them, it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. You responded well to my previous chapter so, as promised, here is the second. More subtle power plays, more existential crises and more Soviet Grandpas getting whats their due. I really hope you like this one just as much as the first. Valoris is really fun to write out and has never been my usual approach when it comes to smut. I'm used to writing for young, robust and sexually aggressive men. Toning it back has been an interesting and enjoyable challenge to me, and I look forward to seeing what else I can bring into the fold. As usual, if you liked this and would like to see more from me, please leave a comment below. If you didn't, I'd still like to hear from you. Duo top relationships are so fun to explore and I look forward to bringing more to this ship in the future. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. Welcome to my first Chernobyl fandom fic, featuring our favourite Soviet grandpas getting it on. Making this fic was simple. I had an idea of how it was to start and then I just let it flow along and do its own thing. I also wanted to explore a dynamic that isn't really touched on where both partners are of the same power dynamic and learn to make compromises. They both struggled, but in the end they know how to give up enough of themselves to satisfy the other. I may continue this as I'd like to see this dynamic be improved and explored further (and also because shower sex is hot). They're both alphas in their own right. Boris being the typical alpha male and Valery being the quieter, reserved one that shows hints of power when needed. 
> 
> Let me know if you would like to see more. If you enjoyed it, let me know as well. This fic in no way is meant to portray the real people behind the disaster. They are fictional characters here.


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